Leave your worries at the door

When Arden woke up in the early morning, shivering in the cold air because he had, once again, kicked off his blanket during his sleep, he knew immediately what kind of day it was. He awoke lying on his stomach and could almost pretend that he felt perfectly fine, but the illusion was shattered the moment he sat up. His chest distended his nightshirt in a way that almost made him nauseous. He rose quickly and moved to the pitcher of water in the corner. As he always did, he washed without looking at himself in the mirror and wrapped the band around his chest the moment he could. Only once his chest was compressed the way he liked it, did he look up in the mirror and grasp around for some string to tie back his blond hair. By the time he had dressed in a wide shirt and comfortable trousers, he almost felt like himself again.

Breakfast had been set up for one when he came to the dining room. Cain was out, then – again. It seemed like the times he was away far outnumbered the times he was at home. Arden wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Cain hadn’t been awful to him so far and the times they had spent in each other’s company had been pleasant, but the fact still remained that Arden despised the business he had built for himself. Having him away was almost easier; at least Arden could pretend nothing was drastically wrong. It was easier to eat a quick breakfast when Cain wasn’t around, easier to escape the house and withdraw to the animals, easier to pretend he didn’t have anything to escape from.

The house was a good distance removed from the stables, where Arden’s working day would start, but the chilly air did him good. By the time he arrived at the stables to greet the horses, he was almost in a good mood. He set to work, following the same routine he always did. He found himself humming under his breath as he fed the animals, calming the chickens without much thought as he collected the eggs. He took his time with each of the horses, patting their necks and putting his hand against their noses before he led them outside. He left them to graze what little grass there was left and made a mental note to give them some additional hay when he took them in again later that day.

He was so lost in thought as he tended to the rest of Cain’s cattle that he didn’t notice, at first, that he was no longer alone. He only noticed when he looked up from his work to find Teren near the fence, watching him. Arden paused in his ministrations. He hadn’t spoken to his half-brother all that much, though he’d wanted to; he simply didn’t know how to approach him. A shared father did not make them friends, after all, especially when that father was Cain Asbrændsson. Still, Teren had left the house he usually slept in, and he had come up to where Arden was working. Now seemed as good a time as any.

So Arden wiped away the sweat that had gathered on his brow and wiped his hands on his trousers before he came over. By the time he had reached Teren, he still hadn’t worked out what he wanted to say. He cleared his throat awkwardly and leaned his elbows on top of the fence, slanting a look in Teren’s direction, and still didn’t know what to say. Finally, when the silence became almost unbearable, Arden took a breath. “Want to lend me a hand?” he asked with a careful smile. As far as openings went, it wasn’t a very good one. But standing around in painful silence wasn’t going to change anything, either.

&Teren